


Acoustic Melody

by Fizzpop_Stenea



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fizzpop_Stenea/pseuds/Fizzpop_Stenea
Relationships: Nezu | Piers/Yarrow | Milo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Acoustic Melody

Milo always thought the best way to unwind after a long day was a nice, relaxing campfire. Not that he really had a choice in the matter this time. It had taken all day just to find the area outside Hammerlocke he needed to be in, and that wasn’t even beginning to mention how long it took to find an applin after that. At some point after the sun went down, he was forced to admit that he wasn’t going to be able to make the walk back to Turffield in the dark—and he thought it rude to call a taxi out so late, since the corviknights deserved a chance to sleep too.  
So, he’d been forced to set up camp, though neither Wooloo or Gossifluer were happy about it. Even now they were chittering crossly around the fire, looking as tired as Milo felt. The Applin didn’t seem to mind so much at least, it chittered occasionally, bounced around a little sometimes, but for the most part it stayed right next to the strawberry blond.  
The fire crackled and sputtered, casting a dreamy orange shimmer onto everything the light could reach. A contented sigh passed his lips, Milo would be the first to admit that he hadn’t been camping in a long while, but he hadn’t realized how much he missed it until now. The refreshingly open air, the towering trees on either side, the rookidees twittering in the branches overhead.  
“Doesn’t get much better than this, does it?” He hummed, casting a glance to the Wooloo sitting around the fire. The sheep bleated quietly, obviously not happy that they were still out here. “I know, I’m sorry,” Milo continued, flustered. “I know I promised we’d be home by tonight when we left, but I really didn’t think it would take so long!”  
Gossifluer whistled impatiently, which caused Applin to start chittering again. The only one not complaining was Eldegoss, who was drifting around quietly in a tired daze. The freckled boy frowned, he had never seen any of them so upset about camping before, and it broke his heart.  
There was only one thing Milo knew to do when situations like this arose, and just as he expected their tired and expectant gazes all melted away the same second he began unzipping the case for his guitar. It was nothing special, just a plain wooden one he’d had since he was a boy. The stout farmer had never seriously considered himself to be any good at playing, but after so many years of practice he had picked up a considerable amount of skill.  
Wooloo nestled against his side as Milo settled the instrument into place on his lap, and the Gossifluer settled around the tree stump he’d chosen for a seat. Warmth from the fire clung to his skin, in stark contrast to the chilled iron strings beneath his fingertips. A new atmosphere had taken over the campsite quickly, a warmer one, a calmer one.  
Very few things in life could compare to this, Milo reflected. A truly peaceful moment, calm and still.  
The words came easy, the fluid finger motions, dancing up and down the fret board, came even easier. And just like that a night filled with only the rustling of leaves was filled with the resonating sound of music. Milo’s voice was that of a tenor for sure, and his voice paired with the hum of guitar strings like it was always meant to be.  
The rookidee in the branches above them added to the lovely sound with high notes of their own, while dottler and orbettle would flash their patterns in time, bringing the forest to life with enchanting blue lights. Applin shifted nervously at his side, gaze unblinking as it watched the Gossifluer twirl through the air, no doubt spurred on by the thrum of the guitar. Eldegoss would puff by, weaving a trail of pollen behind it, and bumping into the side of Milo’s head more than once—causing him to laugh more than once, and occasionally interrupting the sweet melody of the crooning song.  
His eyes slid shut as Milo lost himself in the music, swaying back and forth in time, going for any note he thought he could reach. His voice carried away, light on the wind, the only sound for at least a mile in any direction, as for just a moment, everything that could hear him stopped to listen.  
So lost in the sound as he was, there was no way Milo would’ve known he was being watched by more than just the rookiedee and dottlers. There was no way he would’ve heard the footsteps that sounded behind him either, in fact Milo wouldn’t have known there was another person there at all, if someone hadn’t joined in singing with him.  
A deeper voice than Milo’s, one more tired, smoother, and just a touch gravelly and strained. He was certain he knew that voice, he’d heard more times than he could count. The name that went with it, however, escaped him entirely, but he was sure he’d know who it was, if he could just get a better look at their face—  
“Piers!” Milo exclaimed, pressing a hand up against his rapidly beating heart.  
“Sorry, mate,” Piers grumbled softly, arms crossed over his chest as his gaze drifted anywhere but Milo’s face. Obstagoon was with him too, mimicking the messy-haired singer’s pose. The sight of the two together was apparently cause enough for Wooloo to roll over to the other side of the fire. “I… Honestly, didn’t mean to startle you.”  
“Startle me? Oh, no, well… Well, you did startle me, but no harm done, no worries!” Milo hummed, beaming a toothy grin up at Piers who seemed to tower over him even more when the strawberry blond was sitting down. “I just, I wasn’t really expecting to see you—Not, not that I’m not glad to see you! It’s just so late, I didn’t expect anyone to be out here…”  
A shadow of a smile ghosted across Piers’ lips, and somewhere beneath the ambient sounds of wind weaving through the leaves, Milo swore he could hear a faint whisper of laughter bubbling up from the taller man’s chest.  
“Sorry, I, couldn’t help myself when I heard you singing,” Piers mused, scratching at the back of his head as he focused pointedly on an orbettle resting on a tree off to his right. “I didn’t even know you could sing.”  
“Of course I can sing, silly,” Milo chuckled out with an amused smile. “Farming isn’t the only thing I do in the off-season, and the wooloo do seem to enjoy listening when I play guitar—and all the Gossifluer would come dancing out of shrubs to listen too, that’s how I met my Eldegoss, did I ever tell you that?”  
Piers nodded his head, quiet, listening to Milo prattle on with a sweet smile on his face. While that quiet wasn’t unusual for the taller man, there was still something not quite right, something that the strawberry blond couldn’t yet place. He thought it might’ve been the distant gaze, always dodging eye contact; then again it was Piers, just because he wasn’t looking, didn’t mean he wasn’t listening. Perhaps it was the slouched posture, or the way the orange firelight stained itself onto the white in his hair and on his clothes.  
Or, just maybe, it was nothing at all.  
Maybe Milo was reading into things too much—Nessa often told him not to worry so much, was this one of those moments? Was he just looking for reasons to be nervous, trying to back his way out of something before it could even happen again?  
No, Milo decided. This time, he was not.  
“Is that, uh,” Piers began, his dreary tone snapping the other out of his thoughts so fast it nearly made his head spin. “Is that… An Applin?”  
“Applin… Applin—yes! Y-yes, the Applin!” Milo exclaimed, fractically twisting himself side to side as he hastily searched for the small creature. But all his panic seemed to be for nothing, since he soon spotted the small creature nestled closely against his side—hiding from the looming Obstagoon who had yet to take its eyes off the small dragon. “I nearly plumb forgot it was here,” He said, breathing a small sigh of relief.  
“Di’ja.. Did you, catch it… for somebody?” Piers asked, biting out the words like they were sour in his mouth, an expression of distaste marring his features to match.  
“I… I did,” he admitted, watching closely as Piers shoved his hands into the pockets of his pleather jacket, and started bouncing his heel; something Milo knew he only did when nervous. “I really thought about just catching one for myself,” he continued quickly. “Since, they are really cute an’ all… But, I also thought this would be the best, and, well—the easiest way to confess how I felt.”  
The taller of the two hummed quietly in response, his piercing gaze finally drifting back away from Milo after only a few seconds that had felt like eternity. Now his head was tilted back, he was looking up at the sky, and if it had been difficult to get a read on his emotions before, it was surely impossible now.  
“Well, I, uh,” Piers grumbled out quietly, his words punctuated by the crackle of the fire behind them. “I hope whoever it is appreciates the gift… They are pretty lucky, after all, you’re a… You’re a sweet guy, Milo.”  
“Th-thank you so much, Piers, I,” Milo began, standing up slowly with the little, shiny Applin cupped carefully in his hands. “I really hope you appreciate it too, because I did sort of, spend all day looking for one to give to you—I mean, I understand if you don’t want it, I can also just keep it, it’s not a big deal, I don’t want to sound pushy, but—but I…” He paused, took a breath, felt a chill roll down his bones and continued. “I just really like you Piers, I’m not sure if you like guys, or anyone like that really, but, I really like you.. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for the longest time, and..,” he trailed off with a quiet sigh, cradling the Applin close to his chest as he looked at the ground beside his feet. The grass, washed a vibrant yellow where the firelight reached, and silver where the moonlight touched instead.  
“What…?” Piers breathed out, his voice hardly a whisper as he dropped his gaze back down to Milo once more. “So, this is.. this little guy, is for me?”  
The gesture had obviously surprised him, surprised was etched across his face with his wide eyes and slack jaw. Was he offended? Was he just shocked? Milo squeezed his eyes shut, too afraid of what the answers to all the questions in his head might be.  
Instead, the shorter of the two nodded his head, too afraid that the words would catch in his throat and nothing would come out if he tried to speak. Although Milo was unsure just how red exactly his face was, he could feel the blush burning on his cheeks and forehead.  
“Milo, I… I don’t know what to say, I don’t.. Think.. I.. I don’t think I deserve this..?”  
Milo frowned. It was instinctive, he just couldn’t help it when he heard the sadness creeping into Piers’ tone. He hated to see anyone sad, but he hated to see Piers sad most of all. The icy-eyed singer was sad enough as it was most of the time, and Milo had always thought he deserved all the happiness he could possible muster.  
“Why wouldn’t you deserve it?” The strawberry blond asked with a huff, stomping his foot like a stubborn dubwool. “I’m giving it you after all.”  
Piers went quiet—though, he was almost always quiet—tapping his heel against the ground to a beat that only he could know. He fixed Milo with a stern glare and a scowl, leaning in closer which caused the shorter of the two to take a step back on shaky legs. It was never easy to get a read on the pale-skinned rocker, but it was nothing short of impossible now.  
So many thoughts were racing through Milo’s head. Was Piers angry? Offended? Had he misread the situation between the two of them so terribly that he thought Piers might actually like him back, when he reality he probably wanted nothing to do with someone like Milo? Each second that ticked by filled his mind with more questions he’d have preferred not to be dwelling on.  
“If I had known we were going to be exchanging confessions tonight.. I would’ve brought an Applin for you too,” Piers finally mumbled with a tired, toothy smile.  
And all of the thoughts that were bouncing around in Milo’s brain, suddenly stopped. Dropped and gone. The only thought that remained was how endearing Piers’ actual smile was. The farmer had thought he felt special when he was chosen to be Turrfield’s gym leader, but Piers’ smiling down at him made him feel like he was the most important thing on the planet—if not like they were the only things on the planet.  
“So, does that mean..,” Milo began hesitantly. “Do you, accept the Applin?”  
Piers laughed. Piers actually laughed. Not a chuckle muffled beneath his breath, not a scoff more spoken than unintentionally sang. It was a real laugh, gutteral and sweet. Piers had sung thousands of melodies, but Milo found none sweeter than the ringing of his laughter.  
“Of course it does—Milo.. Milo I-I have loved you for.. I’m honestly not even sure how long anymore,” Piers said, slowly reaching out to delicately cup Milo’s warmer, smaller hands—and by extension the chittering Applin he was holding. The shorter of the two jolted with surprise at the linger chill that seeped into his skin where Piers’ hands held his own.  
The peach-haired farmer’s hold on the small dragon type tightened, and his legs threatened to give from beneath him. Milo hardly noticed his wavering stance, too focused on the smile on Piers’ face shifting to sudden concern. Before he even knew it, Milo was falling forward into the taller man’s arms.  
“Milo!” Piers gasped out, rushing to pull the shaky boy back onto his feet. “What’s wrong? You alright, mate?”  
Milo had been smiling before, but he simply couldn’t help himself now. It was no secret that Piers was prone to worrying a little too much, but it was still touching to know so clearly that he was cared about. Especially from Piers. Someone quiet and composed, and generally not known to care for much.  
He’d never really cared for what others thought about him, but Piers’ concern certainly did make Milo feel special. Not quite as special as the tired-eyed boy’s arms wrapped around him, like they were right now could make him feel though. No, there was simply nothing that could compare to that feeling.  
“I’m just fine, don’t you worry now,” Milo beamed, an airy chuckled bubbling up from his chest.  
The excitable Applin in his hands scurried off, and despite the effort it had taken to catch—neither boy seemed to care all that much. Milo was too focused on the feeling of Piers’ arms wrapped so carefully around him, and the cold that soaked in through his shirt where the other’s hands were placed.  
And Piers. Piers was awestruck, intently focused on Milo’s face as a cherry pink blush took over his own features. Even the warm color of blush seemed to be icy on Piers. An icy pink, frozen and cold, was the darkest color his face could get.  
There was no word Milo had for it, a gaze filled with such adoration and care, and unabashed wonder. It was certainly an expression he had never seen on Piers’ face before, wasn’t one he ever expected to see either. It forced his breath to hitch, lodged his heart up in his throat—Milo thought he’d been rendered love-struck before, but this feeling nearly had him staggering back on his feet.  
“Well you best be alright,” Piers huffed out, steadying Milo by placing his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders. “I’m not too sure what I’d do right now if you weren’t.”  
“I’m fine, Piers,” Milo chuckled out, tilting his head back to look up at the other. “I’m just… I don’t really know how to say this wouldn’t being, well, without being blunt about it.”  
Piers’ hands shifted from their place on Milo’s shoulders. Reaching up to gently lift his chin with the back of two fingers with one hand, and brushing his sunhat off his head with the other. Milo was just glad for the small string that kept his hat tied around his neck, causing the wicker sunhat to rest just behind his shoulders rather than the ground like it would’ve been otherwise. Piers leaned in a little closer, or did he just feel closer without the hat in the way?  
Still cold fingertips trailed lazily through Milo’s hair, while Piers smiled tiredly down at him. The sensation, although one Milo himself was unfamiliar with, was pleasant and calming; despite the lingering doubts in his mind that this might all just be a dream, and that he would wake up at any moment.  
“You could tell me anything,” Piers murmured softly, twirling a lock of Milo’s hair around one finger, a smile creeping onto the taller boy’s face.  
“I-just-really-like-you-Piers-and-I-never-really-had-a-chance-to-plan-how-I-was-going-to-tell-you-so-hearing-you-say-you-like-me-too-has-me-rather-flustered-because-I-love-you-so-much-that-I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself-every-time-I-see-you!” The words poured from Milo’s mouth like water from a faucet, he didn’t even stop to breathe until he was finished talking. He didn’t even know he was talking, until he had finished talking.  
A different kind of blush came creeping onto Milo’s face, a scarlet red fueled by embarrassment more than that not-entirely-awful churning in his stomach he felt whenever he saw something he liked. He reached up to tug the sides of his hat down to hide his face, but was reminded of its absence when his fingers closed around empty air.  
A tired smile, one with a hint of teeth poking out from under his top lip seeped onto the taller man’s face. Not that Milo could see it anyway, with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands covering his face. No, the strawberry blond could hardly see a thing, but he could certainly hear it. He could hear it in the almost unheard chuckle that escaped Piers in a puff of air, it was subtle, but it was there.  
“Has anyone ever told you,” Piers began, a kind of joyful lightness lacing his words. “That you look absolutely enchanting when you’re in love?”  
“Piers!” Milo stammered out bashfully, peering out at the other through a gap between his fingers.  
Piers was smiling down at him. Not that toothy half-grin he showed most people, not that smirk he showed off for photos, or a sarcastic quirk of the lip. It was a smile, a real smile, soft and subtle and almost out of place. Happy and adoring, with just a hint of sadness.  
Milo’s hands slowly sunk back down to his sides, but he hardly noticed. He was far too busy noticing the way Piers’ steely eyes gazed down at him so softly, and the light pink blush that brought just a touch of color to his otherwise pale face. How he would nervously rock his weight back and forth on his heels, and the trembling of his fingers as they combed through Milo’s hair with feather-light ease.  
“Piers..,” the bright-eyed blond breathed out again, voice breathy and airy, well and truly enchanted by the other. “Piers, has anyone ever told you that you’re radiant when you smile? You never smile, but… You look.. Stunning when you do.”  
“Well I smile when I see things I like,” the wild-haired boy crooned, leaning in a little closer with an ever wider smile. “And I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?”  
Milo was weak in the knees, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him once more as a ruby red blush brought heat to his face. There had been plenty of times he caught himself thinking a little too much about Piers while he was baling hay, or herding wooloo back into the barn at night, but this was different.  
It was different to actually be this close to him, to feel cool fingertips brushing against the warm skin on Milo’s cheek, instead of just imagining it. It was different to actually smell the cheap cologne and pleather jacket, to actually have his hand trailing through Milo’s fluffy hair and stopping to rest on the small of his back.  
It was different. To actually have him, was different than everything he ever thought it might be.  
And Milo loved every tiny detail of it. Every inch, every stray hair and speck of smudged eyeliner. He coveted each time Piers’ fingers dragged through his hair, and the way the firelight flickered in his unfairly pretty dusty jade-green eyes.  
“Can I kiss you?” Piers asked, not daring to speak above a whisper as he rubbed small, distracting, soothing circles into Milo’s shoulder with his thumb, which made his mind race faster still.  
“Yes,” Milo whispered in a quivering voice. It was like a dream, it felt like a dream, maybe another daydream. And maybe it was just another dream, and he would wake up in bed, alone, as the sun was rising. Whatever it was, it just felt too good to be real.  
Piers leaned in, and Milo’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned up. Their lips connected in a soft kiss, and oh, Milo hoped this wasn’t just another dream. They fit together so perfectly, melded together to easily and softly, like they were always made to fit together like this, made to hold each other.  
The taller man’s hands rested so delicately on Milo’s shoulders, and the strawberry blond couldn’t help but fling his arms around Piers’ shoulders to pull him down a little closer. A pleased hum resounded in the singer’s throat, warping into a closed-mouth chuckle as Milo melted further into his arms. Piers’ hands aimlessly trailed along the shorter other’s back and sides, holding him close, like he was afraid to let go.  
In some ways, Milo was afraid to let go too, afraid he would wake back up when this kiss ended. Afraid he’d find himself in the middle of the wooloo pasture again after falling asleep in the middle of a warm summer day, alone. Now that Piers was holding him, the last thing Milo wanted to be was alone.  
Then it was over. Just like that, even quicker than it has started. Piers was pulling away, his hands still lingering for just a moment more. Milo’s eyes snapped back open, for fear the other really was fading like a dream.  
But he wasn’t. And they were left, staring at each other, Milo with his mouth hanging slightly open, and Piers with that soft smile on his face.  
“I love you,” the taller one crooned. “I love you so much, I’ve been waiting to kiss you like that for what seems like forever.”  
“I love you too,” Milo whispered, his brain still hazy with the blush-filled daze the kiss had spun him into.  
“Get your things then,” Piers said after a moment of consuming silence. “I’m walking you home.”  
“But Piers it’s so late! Wouldn’t you rather just stay out here with me for tonight?”  
“Of course not,” Piers chuffed out, Obstagoon helping to puncuate his words with a snort. “Who knows what’s out here at this hour? I won’t have you sleeping out here, so you either let me walk you home to Turffield, or you’re coming with me to Spikemuth.”  
Milo just smiled, he knew there was no arguing with Piers when he’d set his mind to something. “Alright, love.”


End file.
